Exploring Love Part 2 – The Greatest Impatience

In our lives we have a way of describing ourselves and then there’s the way we’re perceived.

It’s not often that you are made privy to the way others perceive you. It’s intriguing and often enlightening.

So when people describe me as endlessly patient and laid back it comes as a surprise to me. I see myself as the world’s most impatient person and a neurotic mess. In other words, the polar opposite!

It also makes me think.

And realise stuff.

That could or could not be relevant to me right now.

I realised that I am endlessly patient with everybody else except myself. The impatience I describe to myself is reserved solely for my pleasure. To myself I am endlessly impatient, expecting to be everything to everyone yesterday.


I can love others but not myself.

I can be endlessly patient with others but not myself.

I am hugely open minded to other peoples’ stuff but very worried that mine will not meet with the same acceptance.

I teach others to relax, yet I remain tense.

Am I the only one who sees a pattern here? Thought not.

I ask you – what is it that you give to others but not yourself? It is said that we treat others the way we wish to be treated ourselves. Foolishly I have always thought that meant the way we wanted others to treat us, not the way we want to treat ourselves!

But I am not so foolish and I am quick to act when I see a truth surface.

Therefore I have given myself permission to take all the time I need to heal. Who cares if it takes 3 months, 6 months or 6 years? It only matters that I love myself.

I am beginning to look back to the parts of myself I rejected first and I am beginning to find strength in them, realising that these are the rough diamonds I cast aside thinking they were just stones.

I look beyond the fear of feeling these emotions and find underneath a strong core – a woman and a soul already in control, so there is no need to tense up around things in an effort to keep them under wraps.

I continue to meditate on this, realising that I am both a character in my story and the author. The universe is within me and without me.

WARNING: This is about to get surreal

 I realise this – I exist but I do not. 

Told ya – surreal and a little WTF? 

I am part of a flow that passes through me and is around me. It fills me because it passes through me in its flow. It fills me and it is me.

Of course this flow is love. It is the universe. It is me.

This is what I felt when I felt the love fill me up. I was all like, “Oh DOH! Of course there’s no big jobbie boss man up in the sky called “the universe” Tis I. That’s what all the I AM WHAT I AM nonsense was all about.”

What I did not realise as I did my love meditation (as I’ve come to refer to it) the other night and as I have continued to do it, was that I had somehow stumbled on something far deeper than I had ever imagined.

It makes me realise there are no mistakes, no rights, no wrongs, no meant to be’s or destiny.

Right here, right now is how it is and no more. It is as it should be. 

This is not about being in love it is about loving being.


Exploring Love Part 1

Recently, I’ve begun to feel like a teenager again. This is apart from my excessive use of slang and words like awesome and cool! (yes, the exclamation mark has become part of the spelling).

All I can think about is love and romance. As two single women living in a house together, both of us looking (increasingly desperately) for a big love, it is becoming a topic of near constant conversation. I am reverting to 14, where I fall in love with movie stars (Why yes Mr Craig, I would love to see your hotel room) and fictional characters.

Since Love is my buzzword of the year, thoughts such as these grab my attention most effectively.

In which my body decides to do things thoroughly

Last week, the doctor diagnosed CFS/ ME as the explanation of the extreme inability to find any energy anywhere ever that I have been experiencing since last September.

So shit yeah? More like shit, fuck, bollocks! I make no apology for the appalling language used. I was really hoping I would be able to take a pill and just get better and carry on.

I HATE this diagnosis. It means I have to rethink and re-programme everything I do.


I’m not joking. It literally feels as if my whole way of being is being called in for a bit by bit audit. How I feed myself, sleeping habits, socialising, exercising, working, studying. I have to introduce loving care for myself into every single action I undertake.

Which is hard when your overlying/ overwhelming thought to everything you do is, “when is it time to go back to sleep?”

So I called a friend, who I knew had recovered from ME and now has a baby (i.e. the single most exhausting thing you can do on this planet).

The first thing she said to me was, “So you have ME? Well, the spiritual side to ME is that you don’t love yourself enough.”

I was a bit like – no shit Sherlock, this is not news to me.

She also had loads of very useful advice for me which I lapped up. It turns out though that her first statement went on to make more of an impression than I initially thought.

My theme this year is Love. Did I mention that?

The Universe or my Higher Self (hippy, hippy, hippy, hippy you scream and not just because I’m a classic pear shape) has a very ironic sense of humour.

Apparently I have to learn to love myself in order to get over this.

You see now, the reason for the “shit, fuck, bollocks!” statement earlier.

In which I meet Reiki and for the first time pay attention to it

Which could confuse you, because I’ve been doing Reiki for quite a while now and you know this.

So I can learn to love myself – no big deal. Hah!

I decided to give myself some Reiki the other night, because this helps me a lot.

This time, it was different. As ever, I drew my symbols, my hands in position. I centred and began. I started to pay attention to the energy, so I could feel what my body really needed and where it needed to go.


It was Love. The sweetest, most gentle, gorgeous love I have ever felt. It had lace and frills. It was so gentle.

My body hummed with this Love.

This Love I was feeling was safe and trustworthy. It was gentle, nurturing and caring.

I began to feel as if I was in love. Yes, actually as if I was in love with somebody.


I also started to realise several of the deep, fundamental truths I hold about Love and Romance. I realised this: Love = hurting.

Love is not a safe place for me. Not according to my experiences, both recent and past of it. Love is not the be all and end all of anything. Love is a state of vulnerability which invariably ends in heartache of some sort. I realised I do not want to fall in Love. Not if this is what Love is.

My Reiki experience began to teach me something different. If I could feel like this whilst in Love and to be part of a relationship where this was the base line then I would run to it with open arms and a big sloppy kiss.

Attempting to avoid Overwhelm

The point of all of this, is realising that I have some fundamental beliefs which I suspect have been getting in my way somewhat, an inherent belief that people do not want to give me love being one of them.

This is unsurprising really, since I don’t really want to give me love. Not if I’m truly honest about it.

I’ve come a very far way. Once upon a time I did not believe I was worth life, let alone love.

For many years I have dismissed my depression as something that was irrelevant because it is so common, so what was I making such a fuss about? I want to say this to myself – although depression is a widespread phenomenon, this doesn’t mean it’s irrelevant. Certainly not – it’s an illness that makes people kill themselves. It may mean that humankind on a whole is suffering from an epidemic of deepest self hate and we all have a heck of a lot of healing to do to go from hate to love, but common does not mean irrelevant.

It appears I now have another mirror/ magnifying glass showing me the way in the only way that I listen. I have another illness that I’m trying to dismiss as irrelevant, too common to have proper attention paid to it. Unless of course I remind myself that having my life stripped away from me is not irrelevant and I deserve to heal. I think this might just be another facet of my story.

So, despite my wailing and gnashing of teeth at the unfairness of having my life, my identity stripped away by this stupid sickness, underneath it all I welcome it as an opportunity to heal further and embrace a new way of thinking that truly trusts Love.

True Love. Gentle, trustworthy, nourishing, all encompassing and supportive in everything.

I’m just worried that I won’t be able to do it…






So, it started in September – just after riding the Ty Hafan Taff Trail Challenge (which is a 50 mile bike ride and an achievement for anyone, not to mention that my team raised quite a bit of money) – it was like someone flipped a switch and my energy went *pop* and fizzled out to become something to be remembered fondly with nostalgia.

Since then I’ve been trying, I really have, to find my lost energy. I’ve been resting, I’ve not been doing as much, I’ve been worrying….lots.

I’ve had cold after cold after cold after cold. I spent time in bed, I dug deep, I did energy/emotion exercises (translate – I wrote about stuff when I had a sore throat) I’ve taken multivitamins and developed a strange addiction to lemon and honey toddies.

I’ve had other little things going wrong in my body too. Little sign posts popping up.

I went away for one lousy week and for one lousy week I did not have a cold. It was magnificent.

The day we got back – guess what? Yup, I came down with a cold.

Then I’m getting better right and the snot is drying up ever so slowly and I’m not hacking my lungs up all the time and it’s all good.

Oh guess what? Ah it doesn’t take a genius does it? (Yes, yes I know, I do turn to sarcasm when I’m feeling vulnerable).

But this time I’m knocked for six. Sunday I didn’t get up till about 3 and I’ve not really been able to get up since and I’m alarmed quite frankly.


Because I just don’t know what to do.


Last night when I was giving myself some Reiki to go to sleep I decided to do a bit of a meditation and send light through my whole body. It was all going well until I reached my kidneys and liver. I figured this area needed a little bit of attention since I am so exhausted and my adrenals have probably been doing overtime.


Then… darkness.


Black, treacley, icky darkness. The light would go round it but not into it.


What the hell is that?

I feel like a complete and utter failure at my inability to drum up the energy for one single activity other than lying in my bed.

It seems as if everything, every single thing I do, requires a forced effort to do. Even stuff I Love doing.

My body, one of my most powerful allies, appears to have switched sides and I don’t have a clue what to do about it or even why it’s happened. If there even is a reason.

It’s taken a lot to admit this to myself but I am so scared. I just want to find that switch again.